Drabbleorama
by Cirocco
Summary: 11 drabbles entered in response to Tobias Charity's thursday100 challenges on livejournal.


**drabble:**A vignette which is exactly 100 words long, no more, no less.  
_- **"**Fannish Definitions" website___

**Challenge: Summer**

_Tobias Charity: The fifth challenge is in response to the lovely (::cough cough::) weather that I've been having lately. Write a drabble about summer. Camps, the city in the summer, summertime weather, I don't really care...just involve summer somehow. Due on the 21st._

**Special Duty**

Sweltering heat and a blackout in Manhattan. Some lunatic grabs this opportunity to loot a jewelry store, gets surprised by the owner, and takes him hostage. So now a SWAT team's gathered around the store, fingers poised on their triggers.

Sweat trickling down Lennie's back, under the tight, thick bulletproof vest.

"...the atmosphere is tense as the hostage situation progresses-" Lennie turns off the radio in disgust. He'd really rather be with the SWAT team than here.

Lennie leaves Rey working his intersection, trudges to his assigned corner, and starts to direct traffic. It's gonna be a long, long day.

**Relief**

Wearing a dark uniform and bullet-proof vest in the worst heat wave of the summer. Rey wonders how he coped with this full-time before getting his shield. He peels off his sticky clothing, dreaming of a deep pool. Craving the feel of cool, soothing water flowing over him. Taking away the smell of a full day under a blazing sun, gasoline fumes penetrating him down to his bones as he directed traffic.

Unfortunately, the subway's still down and can't take him to his gym and pool. He'll have to settle for the next best thing.

"Daddy! That's OUR wading pool!"

**Challenge: What If?**

_Tobias Charity: This week's challenge is: write a "What If?" drabble. Basically, start it with the phrase "What if..." or some varient of it, like, "What would happen if..." yadda yadda. That phrase won't count into the number of words._

_Note: I screwed up. I didn't write something with the words "what if" - instead I wrote drabbles about 'what if' some canon thing had happened differently.  Tobias Charity was gracious enough to forgive my bad :)_

**Silence (spoilers for the movie Exiled)**

Mike Logan gazed at the small article.  "Lieutenant Tony Profaci honoured by mayor."  Small picture and story of how Profaci pulled solve rates up at the 3-1 after taking over as Chief.

Lieutenant Profaci.

Mild-mannered, unambitious Profaci.  Was he lieutenant because of merit?  Or because his Mob connections somehow eased the way for him?

A dirty cop, in command.  And Mike was to blame.  Because Profaci was his friend, and Profaci was a nice guy, and Mike had taken pity on him and never told a soul that Profaci was on the take.

Which made him no better than Profaci.

**Switch (spoilers for Thrill)**

Deborah Curtis put down the phone shakily.

Multiple Sclerosis.

God.  What were they going to do?  How could they live, raise their children, under the specter of increasing disability, pain... even premature death?

She firmly took a hold of herself.  For all they knew, this could be a mild case.  There might be years of healthy productive life ahead, with occasional spells of discomfort.  Their lives just might go on as before.

First things first.  She had to call Rey, and she had to be strong.  For him.

"Rey?  The doctor called.  He said... hon, he said you have MS."

**Atonement (spoilers for Under the Influence)**

"...to time served.  Mr. Dressler is free to go.  We are adjourned."

Jack McCoy remained sitting as the courtroom emptied.

Dressler, the bastard, was smiling.  Three years, instead of the needle that Jack had tried to secure for him by hiding evidence that he was drunk when he ran into three people, and getting him convicted of First-Degree Murder instead of Vehicular Manslaughter.

Only to have some eager reporter weasel out the details of that cover-up.  Jack's career had gone down in flames, Dressler had obtained a new trial... and now he was going home.

Justice sure was a bitch.

**Challenge: Genderbender**

_Tobias Charity: Do a gender switch. Jack to Jacqueline. Jamie to James. Bobby to Bobbi. Alex to...well, Alex. Don't make it complicated--no surgery, no transgendering, nothing like that--just a simple gender switch. Jack's still Jack, except now he's a girl. Or whatever._

**Second Opinion (spoilers for Second Opinion)**

"I don't think this is the time or the place for a full-blown debate about your latent feminism."

"Number one, it's not latent. Number two, since when did privacy become a feminist issue?"

Great, McCoy thought. Amazing, the number of die-hard feminist lawyers today. Not McCoy; the patriarchy had never slowed her down, and she had no patience for women who blamed it for their failures.

OK, be patient. Kincaid's just a kid, she shows some promise... and she's easy on the eyes.

She chuckled. Right. Kincaid probably didn't go that way.

Then again... no harm in finding out, right?

**Challenge: Halloween**

_Tobias Charity: next challenge: halloween._

**Night of the living weirdos**

"I thought you said it looked simple and I didn't need to come in ... A werewolf? ... C'mon Lennie, it's Halloween, it's a costume ... What? What witnesses? ... Like, he turned into a wolf? ... Nah, c'mon ... Tooth marks? Right through the skin? ... Wait - the FBI? What the hell are - they want in on our case? ... The what files? ... oh. OK, yeah, I'll come down there. The girls are all done trick or treating anyway. Yeah, I'll be there in an hour or so."

Click.

"Deborah? Sorry, hon. I gotta go in."

**Challenge: Lies**

_Tobias Charity: This week's challenge is to write a lie. A drabble in which someone tells a lie._

**Time and Time Again (spoilers for Second Opinion)**

"Three... in twenty-four years."

Jack's words to his newest assistant echoed mockingly through his head as he sped down Avenue C.

Three relationships with assistants, that the whole world knew about. Hopefully Kincaid wouldn't hold it against him, and if she did, screw her.

Or rather, don't screw her. Not that he wanted to anyway.

And don't think about how much it galled him that the number was a lie. Everybody knew about Sally, Diana, and Sharon, but if he wanted to keep his job, nobody could ever know about Steve and Alan.

C'est la vie. He'd told worse lies.

**Loyalty (spoilers for Under the Influence)**

Jamie Ross sighed.  An hour she'd been here, being interrogated by the Ethics Committee about Jack's conduct during the Dressler case.  Using all of her verbal skills to make it sound like she wasn't dodging anything, like she (and Jack) had nothing to hide.

Damn Jack for telling her to tell the truth anyway.  The truth would torpedo his career, but she knew soon she'd have no choice.

And then there it was.  "Ms. Ross, it's a simple question.  Did Mr. McCoy intend to hide that exculpatory evidence?"

Jamie reluctantly opened her mouth to destroy Jack.

"No, of course not."

**Challenge: Alien Style/Character**

_Tobias Charity: Challenge for the next two weeks ... is to write a character that you normally wouldn't even think about writing, or write a genre you wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Love het? Write slash. Love Alex? Write Jack._

**You Look Like a Fool To Me**

_Chill out whatcha yellin' for?  
Lay back it's all been done before_

Arthur Branch leaned back his comfy chair, music washing over him.

_And if you could only let it be  
you will see  
I like you the way you are_

He wondered why Jack just couldn't seem to chill out.

_Why you have to go and make things so complicated?_

Chill, and listen to Avril. 'Cause Avril really knew about life.

_You're trying to be cool, you look like a fool to me_

Maybe he'd just play this song next time Jack started obsessing about some boring old case.

**Challenge: Drunken Revelry**

_Tobias Charity: your new challenge is: **drunken revelry.** Or just drunkenness. Knock yourself out, mates._

**Apres Sideshow (spoilers for Sideshow II)**

Lennie and Van Buren grinned as Rey carefully sat down at his desk.

"Good morning!"

"Hm."

"You OK?"

"M."

"Oh, the bartender said thanks."

?

"He'd bet that before the end of the year, somebody at the bar would sing worse than Munch. He won."

"I _sang_?"

"'Feelings'." Lennie smiled wider as Rey put his head on his desk and groaned.

"Don't get too comfortable," Van Buren told him. "You've got a call already. Floater, a week old at least - Rey?"

"Being a recovering alcoholic has its perks," Lennie commented as a very green Rey bolted for the washroom.


End file.
